


Still Mine

by IDoNotBiteMyThumbAtYou



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Female Eivor (Assassin's Creed), Kidnapping, Light Bondage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:54:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29069136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IDoNotBiteMyThumbAtYou/pseuds/IDoNotBiteMyThumbAtYou
Summary: When Randvi is taken by Saxon bandits, it's more embarrassing than anything else.Eivor is going to be insufferably smug if she has to come rescue her.
Relationships: Eivor/Randvi (Assassin's Creed)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 292





	Still Mine

**Author's Note:**

> I had to write a PWP because I kept having the impulse to rush my slow burn so I could get to the sex. This is to exorcise that impulse and get a little smut down so I can focus on Deadly Hands better.
> 
> Also I still don't have a beta reader so proceed with caution.

Randvi supposed she should have been flattered that the Saxon bandits hadn’t underestimated her. They sent five men - two of them easily twice her size - to ambush her when she was alone and annoyingly close to Ravensthorpe. By the time they managed to tie her up to the point of incapacity, only four men were left, and one of the largest was nursing a sickeningly broken arm. 

‘I’m losing my edge.’ Randvi thought, ‘and these knots are actually very well tied.’ They marched her down faint deer paths, and hid her from passers by, and all the while Randvi was calculating in her head how she might overpower her captors before they met up with more of their allies. But no matter how she strained against her bindings, she couldn’t free herself. And the terrain was too flat to give her any advantages. The only thing she could safely do now, was wait.

Eivor was going to be insufferably smug if she had to come rescue her.

“What’s all this about, gentlemen?” Randvi asked, primly.

“Shut up.” One of the giants said.

“I only mean to say this all seemed far too organized to be a random occurrence.”

“If you don’t shut up I’ll tie a gag ‘round yer mouth.”

Randvi shut up, and vividly imagined driving her hammer into the man’s knee.

When they brought her into the camp, Randvi knew that any chance at escape she might have managed on the journey there was long over. It was a camp deep in the woods, with little tents surrounding a long abandoned house. There were at least a dozen men in addition to her four escorts.

They brought her into the house, and took her hammer, her cloak, jewelry, her finely woven outer layers, chainmail, and - humiliatingly - her boots and leggings. And tied her to a heavy post in the house - wrists behind her back - in just her shift and stockings. They passed her belongings around, and argued amongst themselves about what belonged to whom. Luckily any question of to whom Randvi herself belonged was quickly dispelled.

“No one touches her.” Said one of the men who had abducted her. The one she’d so vividly imagined crippling. “She belongs to the Wrath.”

The other men flinched at the sound of the name. They suddenly seemed afraid to even look at Randvi in her state of undress, and they shuffled out of the house without another word leaving her tied to the post with only one big man as a guard. 

“What are you smiling about?” He grumbled at her.

“Mister, or shall I say - His lordship - The Wrath must be an awfully frightening individual”

“He’ll take your people out.”

“Oh,” Randvi said, unconcerned, “That  _ is _ frightening. I suppose he’ll go around settlement disrupting leadership. Or is Ravensthorpe special?”

“Your town is run by women. Easy pickings.”

“Oh certainly. May I ask why I was singled out? Surely he could have simply attacked such a weakly defended town outright”

“He heard about you and your… lady chief. Ya nasty Dane sinners. He asked for you because he likes redheads”

Randvi’s mouth twisted in distaste. She should have anticipated something like this when Eivor took the throne with herself publicly at her side. But she hadn’t thought the reaction would be so personal. She imagined those same men trying to ambush Eivor instead of her and had to bite her tongue to keep herself from laughing. This “The Wrath” must not have heard much about Eivor if he’d thought this was a good idea.

The minutes dragged. Randvi stayed on alert, noticing the sounds of the men walking about in the camp outside, and talking boisterously about who knows what. Her shoulders began to ache with her arms clasped awkwardly behind her. Randvi watched the sun go down out the open window. Gradually there was less and less walking around, and fewer and fewer voices, until the camp outside the little hut was perfectly quiet and still.

“Any Idea when this friend of yours will be showing up?” Randvi said.

“No.” the man said gruffly.

“That’s a shame.” she sighed, “I really was hoping to meet such a powerful man. But I suppose now, I’ll never have the chance.” The guard stilled, and slowly turned to look at her, and she smiled sympathetically from where she was tied and looked down at him as though that post was a throne and said, “All your friends are dead.”

The guard darkened and stood from his stool, “What the fuck did you just -” 

But before he could finish his undoubtedly insightful question, Eivor Wolf-Kissed vaulted through the open window, landing on the man’s chest, and stabbing him through the throat. She held the man’s body down with her knees until he stopped moving, and wiped the blood from her eyes.

“Hello, my love.” Randvi said

She looked like a dark fae creature. In an instant, concern piled atop her already heightened, coiled alertness. “Did they hurt you?” She demanded.

“No but we’d better unf,” Randvi tried to shimmy to a standing position against the pole, but her legs tingled sharply in protest. One of her stockings gave up and crumpled to below her knee, “we’d better leave quickly. It sounds like there’s worse to come. You didn’t happen to find my -”

Eivor tossed a bundle of clothes in front of her.

“Wonderful. Now, please -”

But the expression on Eivor’s face had taken a half step from blood lust, to lust classic. 

“Look at you.” She said in a low rumble. Randvi was suddenly hotly aware of her shift falling down her shoulder, and how the position of her tied up arms forced her chest forward. “All undone. Usually you’re the one leaving  _ me _ undone.” Eivor stepped to where Randvi was tied up.

“Eivor...” Randvi said warningly, a smile fighting to betray her better judgement, “Eivor! We don’t have time for this. Their leader is due to arrive -”

“Then I suppose I’d better work quickly.”

She knelt at Randvi’s feet, and with a single fluid motion swung her legs over her shoulders. And before Randvi even had the chance to gasp, Eivor’s mouth was upon her. After one slow stroke of the tongue from entrance to clit - forcing an indulgent groan from Randvi’s throat - Eivor went to work focusing her full attention on Randvi’s promptly stiffening clit. 

Randvi yelped at the relentless stimulus but Eivor held her fast, one hand gripping a thigh at her ear, the other at the small of Randvi’s back. No matter how she bucked, Eivor’s mouth wouldn’t budge. It was a pleasure so sharp it almost hurt. Randvi’s vision became unfocused and flecks of magic pooled at the corner of her eyes. Her breathing picked up and just as she felt herself on the precipice of a piercing climax, Eivor pulled her head back with a gasp and wiped her mouth. Randvi scoffed at the betrayal.

“I thought you were going to work quickly.”

“I thought you wanted to leave.”

Eivor stood to her full height, and pressed her body to Randvi’s. Notably, she did not untie her wrists. Instead she lazily traced the lines of the tattoo over Randvi’s eyebrow as her other hand wandered up to prod between Randvis thighs. Her fingers found Randvi’s cunt and played languidly with the folds of her labia, occasionally dipping into the wet well between them. 

“I knew you'd be like this if you had to rescue me.”

“Like what?”

“Smug.”

Eivor gifted her that smirk of hers and pulled her hand from between Randvi’s thighs. Randvi’s throat let out a traitorous little whimper. Eivor put those same fingers to Randvi’s mouth and gently grazed the outline of her lips. 

“I  _ am _ always telling you not to leave Ravensthorpe on your own.”

“I am perfectly capable. I don’t need you protecting me all the time.”

“Protecting is in my nature. And clearly…” she stuck her two middle fingers into Randvi’s mouth, “you do.” Randvi bit down on her fingers hard - right along the tattoo lines as though those lines were there for the express purpose of offering directions of where to bite, and Eivor’s eyes widened in delighted surprise. She placed her thumb firmly on the underside of Randvi’s chin and steered her head to the side, and returned the bite to the quickened pulse point at Randvi’s throat eliciting a muffled little cry.

With her free hand, she gathered up the fabric of Randvis shift to meet the garment’s neckline and pulled it down to expose her breasts. She held onto the twisted, gathered fabric of the shift like it was a handle at Randvi’s sternum. 

Eivor gently pulled her fingers out of Randvi’s mouth and returned them to her sex, this time with a dedicated purpose, as she parted the soft folds and - maintaining relentless eye contact - easily pressed her moistened middle fingers inside. 

Randvi swore under her breath and ground her hips down, forcing Eivor’s fingers further inside her. Eivor moved slowly, undulating her fingers in a beckoning motion. Randvi leaned her head against the support post and pulsed her hips with the motion of Eivor’s fingers. It was too slow to do anything but tease at the bliss Randvi knew Eivor was capable of eliciting with those fingers. She furrowed her brow, and strained against her bonds trying to chase that deeper pleasure. She whimpered.

“Oh?” Eivor murmured in her ear, “whatever is the matter my doe?” She kept moving her fingers at that hypnotically languid pace, and dipped her head to capture a nipple between her teeth, twisting the fabric of Randvi’s tunic tighter to pull her ribcage closer to her mouth.

Randvi could no longer speak to form her request and could only vocalize in incoherent moans as Eivor ran her tongue across the sensitive skin of her nipple and moved her mouth to the inner side of her breast and bit. Hard. Randvi cried out, and the yelp melted into a moan as Eivor sucked a bruise into that swell of her breast.

She supplemented the movement of her hand with a soft press of the thumb against Randvi’s clit. Randvi’s hips jolted as a bolt of sensation electrified her veins. But the movement was still too gentle, too torturously slow.

She cried out in frustration

Eivor responded by tightening her grip on the fabric and gently pressing Randvi’s back to the post, holding her there. She pulled away from her breast, and - worst of all - ceased her movement inside her. “What?” she said, cooly. 

“Please.” Randvi whispered, clawing at her bindings, absolutely wrecked, “There’s no time.”

“Ahhh.” Eivor said. “You mean ‘The Wrath’ is on his way.” She looked over her shoulder at the door, and shrugged, “Let him come.” She leaned forward pressing Randvi’s body between herself and the post, kissed her hard and open on the mouth and began to fuck Randvi with intention, hard and fast. The pads of Eivor’s fingers curled inside to stroke the front wall of her, and Eivor’s palm thudded against her clit with every quick stroke.

Randvi cried out in one long keening cry, and Eivor laughed in delight at the sound and kept it up, breathing heavily with exertion at the repetitive motion. She kissed Randvi again.

“Let him come here and try to claim you from me.” She growled, and changed the pace to slam in and out of Randvi hard and slow, eliciting a little cry with every contact, “I’ll climb up the rafters when I hear him, and leave you here, like this for him to find. Exposed, bleary, wet down to your -” she glanced down, and grinned wolfishly, “knees. ‘Who did this?’ He’ll say. ‘She was supposed to be mine!’” Eivor let out a panting laugh, “and I’ll emerge from the rafters and the last thing he’ll hear is, ‘No.’” Eivor pressed her fingers inside and held them there and Randvi’s flesh clenched around them. She kissed Randvi’s throat just under her jaw, open-mouthed, and grazed the skin with her teeth. “‘She’s mine.’”

Eivor resumed the previous fast speed, her arm moving from the shoulder with remarkable strength and not a glimmer of fatigue. She kissed Randvi on the mouth again and Randvi reciprocated the kiss for as long as she could before her body took over. She cried out into Eivor’s mouth, with an explosive pleasure that seemed to emanate from her ribs, to her throat, to her loins, as her body convulsed and bucked and she came into Eivor’s open palm. Eivor didn’t stop her movements and it seemed to go on for ages, as one drift followed another so quickly as to feel like one avalanche of sensation. Eventually she couldn’t take anymore and she clenched her knees together and managed a breathless “uh uh.” and the movement stilled.

Her head drooped and caught on Eivor’s shoulder. Eivor slowly removed her fingers - Randvi whimpered at the sudden emptiness - and wrapped her arms around her, allowing Randvi’s shift to drop and graze her suddenly intensely sensitive skin. Randvi shuddered with shadows of her orgasm.

“I love you.” Randvi whispered into Eivor’s throat.

Eivor kissed her forehead, and helped her lean her weight on the post. She touched her cheek and said very seriously: “Don’t fall,” before walking to the other side of the post and cutting the rope around Randvi’s wrists. Randvi cried out in discomfort as her shoulders resumed their normal position - the stab of pain incongruously coinciding with an aftershock of erotic pleasure pulsing upward from her sex. Eivor took Randvi into her arms, and helped her sit, wrapping her cloak around her shoulders and pulling her close to her chest. All the while, Eivor had the most obnoxiously satisfied grin on her face. 

They sat there for a bit, catching their breath and regaining their senses

“We have to… the… whatever his name is…”

“Hush. Rest. I already killed him.”

Randvi sat up and glared into Eivor’s grinning face, “What!”

“We’re perfectly safe here.” Eivor said, and she brushed a red curl from Randvi’s sweat-dampened forehead, as Randvi stared in disbelief. “Still love me?”

Randvi sighed and chuckled, “yes.” And she returned her head to rest on Eivor’s chest. “Profoundly so.”

“Good,” Eivor said, and Randvi could hear the smile in her voice. “I love you profoundly as well.” She took a deep contented breath and rested a cheek atop Randvi’s head. “Still mine?”

Randvi pressed her cheek closer yet to Eivor's chest. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's awkward to comment on porn so no pressure ;) - but kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
